


Not A Catholic Thing

by Little_White_Lie



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: -matt murdock probably, BDSM, Bondage, D/s, Dorks in Love, Foggy's Hot Lawyer Powers, Forgive Me, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Over stimulation, Sensitivity, Sex Toys, Subspace, Truth or Dare, avocados in love, awkward college dorks, completely self indulgent porn, everyone is an alcoholic, forgive me Father for I have sinned, hyper-senses, im so sorry, in college matt was actually bad at talking about sex, it has been three seconds since my last confession, matt murdock: come early and often, matt needs sleep, sub matt murdock, un-beta'd, virgins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-18
Updated: 2015-05-18
Packaged: 2018-03-31 05:01:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3965353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Little_White_Lie/pseuds/Little_White_Lie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Matt Murdock’s mostly a virgin.<br/>That one where Matt’s senses make sex hard. </p><p>Foggy snorted. “Is this a Catholic thing?”<br/>No. It’s a people would catch on that I’m not normal if I ever let them see me come apart like that thing. “Yeah.” Some lies were still necessary.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not A Catholic Thing

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry, I was too impatient to have this beta'd.

“ _No_. No, I flat out _refuse_.” Matt rolled onto his face, squishing into the carpet, trying to make himself invisible. It was like when a kid put their hands over their eyes. _I can’t see you, you can’t see me._ He snorted, inhaling something truly revolting on the dorm room carpet. It was funny because he couldn’t see anything.

“Coward!” Foggy exclaimed, poking him in the rips. “A cowardly coward!”

“Shit, fine.” Matt sat up, nearly knocking his beer over as he groped for his phone and switched it on. “Call Allison.”

“Do you want to call, Gwyneth?” the simulated voice asked.

“No! No, call _Allison_.”

Foggy was practically hysterical next to him.

“Calling, Whitney.”

“Oh my god, Murdock, how many girl’s numbers are on that phone?”

Matt was trying desperately to hang up, but his fingers weren’t working quite right. “A lot. Shit, I can’t hang up.”

“Whitney’s the redhead from month before last, right?”

“Yes. Shit.” Hands, do the hanging up thing.

“Meh. She’ll work.”

 _“Hello, this is Whitney,”_ said the phone. _“I’m not here right now, you know what to do.”_

There was a little beep and Matt sighed, mouthing I hate you in Foggy’s general direction. “‘Ello, sexy lady,” he said into the speaker in his best (and most horrible) French accent. “It is I, your ex lover, here too tell you that your mother was a hamster, and your father stank of elderberries!”

Foggy cackled as Matt hung up, rolling around on the floor. “Fucking classic. Okay, okay, your turn.”

“Truth or dare?” He felt like this game was going to end with their dorm on fire and the two of them fleeing to Denmark to avoid murder and arson charges.

“Dare! Hit me, brother!”

“I dare you… To tell your mom that you’re pregnant.”

Foggy howled, seeming to shake the whole room with his laughter. He stole Matt’s phone, his fingers tap-tap-tapping away at the keys. “Mom,” he read out loud, “this is Foggy. Don’t be mad, but I’m pregnant.”

The reply came within minutes and Foggy laughed even harder. “Franklin,” he imitated his mom’s prim tones. “Lay off the booze or so help me god, I will never invite you home for Thanksgiving ever again.” He stopped laughing, a frown evident in his voice. “Damn, mom. That’s cold.”

He tossed Matt’s phone at his head and laid down next to him. “Okay. Truth or dare?”

“Truth. You’re not making me call any more of my exes.”

“Okay, fine. When and how did you lose your virginity?” Foggy poked his sides again, voice still full of that warm, laughing tone.

Matt blushed, turning away from Foggy. “That’s private.”

“Oh c’mon man! That like, the most basic truth to answer.”

“It’s also private.”

Sober, Foggy might’ve let up, but it was Friday night and finals were over, so there was no way in hell that Franklin Nelson would be sober. “ _C’mooooooooon_. I’ll tell you how I lost mine.”

“I don’t really want to-”

“So I’m seventeen, right, junior prom.”

Matt sighed. There was no escape once Foggy started telling a story.  

“I went alone, because I’m a loser. Didn’t mean I wasn’t smoking though, no siree. There was this girl, Amanda, _gorgeous_. Legs like three miles long and all this curly dark hair and eyes like black holes. She wore this tiny strapless mini-dress and it was awesome to watch her walk by.

“Anyway, she’d brought her college boyfriend down for the night. Big, blonde, football type, not super interesting to look at. I walk in and she’s sitting at a corner table with him, bored as shit, and she sees me and it’s like a swarm of piranhas who want to feed. She leaves him sitting there and saunters up to me and _damn_ this girl had a mouth on her, she’s whispering things that would make your Catholic choirboy self faint.

“And I look over, and her boyfriend’s sitting there watching her with this look of like… acceptance in his eyes. Like he’s used to this shit.” Foggy’s voice suddenly got a hard edge and he downed the last of this beer.

“So I walk right past her and ask him for a dance. And he was my first.”

Matt blinked, turning his head towards Foggy.

Sure, he knew that Foggy was not exactly a Heterosexual™, but inferring was one thing and hearing Foggy talking about losing his virginity to another guy was something else entirely.

“Oh,” he muttered. “Well, um. Was it… good?”

Foggy laughed. “As good as a first time can be. Also weird, because it was sort of the first time I acknowledged to myself that, hey, dicks are things which are nice? His name’s Bryan, we’re still Facebook friends.”

He poked Matt’s ribs, his voice taking on a wheedling tone. “Sooooo, Murdock, spill the beans. Who was the first beautiful supermodel you took to bed?”

Matt considered making up a story. Something simple. A girl in his high school math class in senior year. Nice, a pretty soprano voice. But Foggy had really put himself out there. Matt lied to him too much, this wasn’t a secret that needed to be kept.

“I’m still a virgin,” he said in a rush, curling in on himself.

Foggy’s whole body stiffened for a moment, and then he started laughing. “Dude. That, that’s funny. You had me for a sec-” He seemed to realize that Matt wasn’t laughing. “Oh. You’re serious.”

“Yeah,” Matt muttered, tilting his head away.

“But… Matt, just last week that girl left wearing one of your shirts and walking like she’d had the best night of her life.”

Matt’s face was probably a horrendous shade of scarlet. “Well, I’m sure she had fun, yeah. I mean, it’s not like I haven’t done… sexual stuff. I’ve just. Never. You know.”

“Know what?”

“Had an. Orgasm? With another person. Yeah.” He should’ve lied about the girl from math.

“Wait, so what? You like, eat girls out or something then send them on their merry way?”

“Sort of? Not always the um, oral sex thing but. Yeah.”

Foggy snorted. “Is this a Catholic thing?”

 _No. It’s a people would catch on that I’m not normal if I ever let them see me come apart like that thing._ “Yeah.” Some lies were still necessary.

“Oh.” Foggy reached over and patted his back awkwardly. “That’s cool buddy. I think you might be cheating a little, but hey the fact that you had girls like that in here and you didn’t blow your load is impressive as hell.”

Matt laughed shyly, feeling empty and not entirely sure why.

“Perv.”

“Prude.”  

* * *

 

He was actually having a good night’s sleep for the first time since they’d taken down Fisk when his phone started yelling at him that Foggy was calling. He groaned into his pillow and his hand flopped around a bit before he found the phone, answering with a grumbling, “Foggy, unless something is on fire I’m going to-”

_“IT’S NOT A CATHOLIC THING, IS IT?”_

Matt yanked the phone away from his ear. “Ow. Jesus, Foggy. What do you mean, what’s not a Catholic thing?”

“Your thirty year old virgin thing! It’s not a Catholic thing, it’s a mask thing, isn’t it?” Foggy’s voice slurred.

“When did I-” Oh, right. College. “Ugh. Remind me never to get drunk with you ever again, you guilt tripped me into telling you that.”

“Details, details. So that’s still the case though, right? Not even with Hottie McBurner Phone.”

“No, Foggy, Claire and I didn’t have sex.”

“I did not have sexual relations with that woman,” Foggy muttered in a horrible Bill Clinton impression.

“No. Oh my god, no, Foggy. I didn’t even get her off, we kissed once and that was it.” He buried his face in his pillow. “Foggy, why are you calling me at-” he hit his clock to get the time, “four seventeen in the morning to talk about my sex life?”

“Because you’ve never experienced the wonder of mutual orgasms because of your weird secret, not because of some dumb wait ‘til marriage thing.” Foggy sounded way too happy. “You get all worked up really fast, am I right?”

“Oh my _god._ I’m hanging up on you _right now_.”

“No! No, Matty, I’ve got an idea!”

“I have an idea too. It’s called _go the fuck to sleep._ ”

“Oh damn!” Foggy cried, voice full of laughter. “Ladies and gentlemen, did you hear that? Matthew Murdock, our very own Catholic, just dropped the f-bomb.”

“Foggy, I will come to your house, and I will hurt you.”

“No no no! Listen, Matty. I have a way for you to punch your v-card.”

“Prostitution is illegal in the state of New York, Mr. Attorney.”

“No stupid! I mean me!” Foggy sounded delighted with the idea.

All of the air was sucked out of the apartment. “What?”

“Well, you can only get off with someone who knows about your thing, right? And Claire sort of left you, which sucks by the way, her loss man. So that leaves me!”

“Um. Foggy.” Jesus, how much had he had to drink?

“I know that you are like, the walking definition of hetero, but I’m not asking if you want me to do you up the ass, just wondering if you’d like a handjob sometime.”

“Foggy, I’m hanging up now. You’re drunk and I’m exhausted. Goodbye.” The click of the call ending rang it his ears, impossibly final.

He curled in on himself, trying to ignore the fire in his belly.

***

“Dude, did I drunk dial you last night?” Foggy asked the next day, blocking out the light with a damp cloth.

“No.” Matt answered, maybe a little too quickly. Some lies you just had to tell.

***

Of course, Foggy brought it up again, but at least this time he was sober. “So. Did you ever… do the well and proper do with Claire. Like. PIV, the whole shebang?”

“No.” Matt mentally beat his head against the wall. He’d run away, but that was hard to do in your own apartment. “Claire and I didn’t have sex.”

“Huh.” Foggy nodded, eating quietly for a minute or so before- “So you’re still a mostly virgin?”

“Yup” Matt smacked his lips on the P, wondering if he could pretend to hear someone getting hurt.

“Huh. Alright.” Foggy’s breathing changed the way it did when he wanted to say something. For once, Matt didn’t encourage him to say it. After a long, drawn-out pause he said in a rush, “You think you’ll ever change that? Like. Find someone you trust enough to know about… your thing. That’s why you don’t do it, right? Because of the super-sensitive thing?”

“Yeah, that’s why.” He admitted, focusing very hard on trying to hear someone, anyone, in trouble. For once, Hell’s Kitchen refused to provide him with a tragedy.

“Must be rough, sometimes. Being with a girl and having her enjoy herself and not getting to have the same experience.” Foggy’s heart was speeding up. Matt desperately wanted him to stop talking.   
“It’s not that bad.”

Foggy laughed nervously. “I don’t get it, man. Why the half-celibacy thing?”

The way they sounded when the fell apart, the way they tasted, the way some of them petted his hair after and called him good boy.

He shrugged. “I don’t know. Better than nothing.”

“Is that really all you want though? Better than nothing?”

Matt fought the blush tooth and nail, but his ears still felt too hot. “‘Course not. It’s what I’ve got though.”

His breathing shifted again. _Please no_. Matt prayed. _Please please please, Foggy, don’t say it._

“What if it wasn’t?”

“Oh my god!” Matt shot up like a bottle rocket. “Someone’s getting attacked a block down! I have to help them!”

It started raining as he was sprinting out of the apartment building, because his life sucked. He spent the rest of the night soaking wet and hiding on his own roof, meditating to make his… inappropriate reaction go away.

***

“Matt,” Karen asked, voice oozing concern and love. “You don’t look so hot.”

Matt sneezed and sniffled, feeling pathetic. “I stayed out in the rain too long.” It wasn’t a lie.

***

“Matt, are you asexual?” Foggy asked over coffee one morning.

He thought of a certain little box under his bed. “No Foggy,” he sighed. “I am not asexual.”

“It’s cool if you are!” He sounded so worried, damn him.   
“Trust me, I’m not.”

There was a few moments of silence and then-

“Are you straight?” Foggy’s jaw snapped closed with a little click. His heart was racing. He hadn’t meant to ask that. “I mean. I’ve only seen you with girls but-”

Matt shrugged. This wasn’t a secret, it was just something he didn’t feel the need to scream from rooftops. “I don’t really care either way.”

“Oh.” Foggy nodded and took a too large gulp from his mug. He coughed and spluttered for a moment, sadly not quite long enough for Matt to escape. “You never said.”

“You never asked.” Matt shrugged.

“True.” Foggy fiddled with his mug for a second then asked, “Do you have a type? With guys? Is it supermodels there too?”

Boys who tied him to the bedpost. Boys who used his mouth like nothing but a hole to fuck. Boys who made him breakfast in the morning and asked a million times if he was sure he didn’t want them to return the favor. Boys who kissed his neck and whispered good boy.   
“I keep telling you, looks don’t matter.”

(He remembered the way Foggy’s face felt under his fingertips. Looks didn’t matter, sure. Not really. Sure made a guy fall that much more though.)

For once, Foggy didn’t mention the whole _always knows who’s hot_ thing. “Oh. I guess it’s different, with a guy. The whole… your thing.”

“They treat it a little different, yeah.”

Foggy frowned, leaning close. “They don’t take advantage of it, do they? Because I have a softball bat, Murdock, and I will hit them with it. I will defend your honor.”

Matt laughed, full and loud. Oh right, there was his Foggy. “No, Foggy. No one’s taken advantage of it.”

“Good,” Foggy turned his head from side to side and made a cracking noise with his mouth. “I was ready to kick some ass.”

“My knight in shining armor,” Matt deadpanned, trying to ignore the way Foggy offering to protect him made his heart flutter.

“I wouldn’t,” Foggy muttered, and the fluttering stopped.

“...What?”

Matt listened to the way Foggy’s body shifted, the way his heart sped up. He took a breath, the one that meant he was going to say it. Matt willed him not to. “I wouldn’t take advantage of it.” Foggy said, and Matt could feel his eyes on his face.

“Foggy maybe you should-”

“But you wouldn’t have to do it with me though, you know.” Foggy’s voice was shaking, just the tiniest bit. “I know, Matty. You could trust me.”

Matt stood, turned, and walked to the complete opposite side of his apartment. He could hear Foggy’s heart stuttering, angry and afraid.

“Foggy, we’ve known each other for five years. What is the longest relationship I’ve ever had?”

When Foggy spoke, his voice was cold. “About a two months.”

Matt nodded, hard and sharp. “You know why that is? It’s because I am a truly shitty romantic partner. I get distracted, I’m not interesting, people get bored.” His hands were shaking. His whole body was shaking. “I don’t keep lovers. My life just- I’m not focused enough. I care too much about other things. I have commitment issues.”

He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Look, Foggy, I’ve known that you think you want me for a while.” Foggy drew in like a breath like he had been sucker-punched. “I’m not going to insult you by lying to your face about that. But I also know that you have _no clue_ what you’re getting into. If we. If I let you-”

His voice broke and he covered his mouth with his hand, like he could shove the noise back inside. His eyes were hot and prickly.

“I don’t want to lose you, Foggy. You’re… you’re more than… than punching my v-card or whatever you want to call it.”

“Do you want me?” Foggy cut in sharply. Matt blinked and opened his mouth to respond, but there was no stopping Foggy now. “Forget your fucking Catholic angst or whatever for a second. Do you _want me_?”

Matt was so sick of lies. “Oh course I want you, Foggy.”

“Okay then, Mr. Summa Cum Laude. Let’s look at your reasoning for your previous relationships falling apart.” Foggy walked to Matt’s side of the room, getting right in his face. “You get distracted. Okay. Let’s think back to college, when you would forget that we were going to get dinner or something because you were studying like the fucking nerd you are. Who brought you food and ate with you in the library, even if you wouldn’t say a word?”

“Foggy-”

“Me. Next. You’re not interesting. I’m sorry, but _bullshit._ Being a kickass lawyer slash superhero with the best sense of humor on the planet places you firmly in the ‘interesting’ category.” His body temperature was rising. “Next. People get bored. As you pointed out, I’m your best friend and I have been for years. Trust me, I’m not bored of you and I plan on remaining not bored until we’re wreaking havoc together in a nursing home.”

Matt’s heart clenched uncomfortably.

“You’re not focused enough and you care about other things. What things? The law firm that I’m your fucking partner in? The superhero gig that I’m one of the only people who knows about? Me? Don’t pretend like no girl’s ever dumped you because you spend too much time with me.”

Matt gulped. It’d happened more times than he cared to think about.

“You have commitment issues. Have I really, _really_ misjudged our entire friendship so much that you’re planning on leaving me when a more interesting person comes along? Because I’m gonna quote Brokeback at you, Murdock, _you just can’t quit me._ ”

Matt laughed, watery and uncertain, and Foggy took another step in, boxing him up against the wall. “Matt, you think you’ve got all of these secrets from me about what your love life’s like, but you don’t. I’m fully aware that you can’t hold a date, and I have a theory as to why that is.”

He leaned in, his lips a millimeter away from Matt’s. “You. Are in love with me. Not them.”

Matt felt his smirk almost touching his lips. He should’ve been denying it. He should’ve pushed Foggy away.

“So, your honor. What’s the verdict?”

“ _Kiss me_.” Matt begged.

Foggy kissed him. There was anger in it, and sweetness, and a vindictive pleasure in the way Matt went from zero to five million in three seconds. It ended too soon. Matt tried to chase Foggy’s lips when he broke the kiss, but Foggy pressed him back.

“You have missed out on a lot, Murdock,” Foggy commented idly, his fingertips running over Matt’s collarbones. “I usually don’t kiss on the first date, and I certainly am not having sex with you today, but I’d like you to make me a list of all of the things you’ve wanted but haven’t been able to get because of your... situation. Does that sound fair?”

Matt’s knees felt like jello. Foggy’s voice sounded like it did in court, but there was something else there too. Something hot and commanding. It was a tone that would sculpt the words good boy like Michelangelo.

“Y-yes,” he stuttered out, trying to brace himself against the wall. He gasped as the taste of Foggy’s arousal, a long burn up until then, spiked.

“Alright. How does Friday sound to start working on this?”

“Good.”

Foggy smiled, leaving on last kiss on Matt’s cheek before he pulled back. “Alright then. Friday.”

“Friday.”

* * *

 

**Matthew Murdock’s List**

  1. Good boy.




 

* * *

 

Foggy’s hands were shaking just the smallest amount when he let himself into Matt’s apartment on Friday.

Matt wanted to stand and do something attractive, but he was currently preoccupied with being a blanket lump.

He was going to wear something sexy (he’d bought leather pants once on accident and had been intrigued enough not to return them) but something stupid had happened to his heat and now his apartment was freezing. He’d called his landlord, but the workman was out and nothing could be done for two days at the least. So here he was, wrapped in three blankets, dressed in his warmest hoodie and softest sweatpants, nothing visible but a tuft of hair and his socked feet.

“Oh my god,” Foggy paused in his entryway. “Matt, it’s freezing in here.”

“I noticed,” Matt replied, voiced muffled by the blankets.

Foggy laughed, bright and warm. Matt assumed that he’d been spotted.  

“Stop mocking my pain,” Matt whined, wriggling deeper into his lump.

“Oh no, little duck.” Foggy walked over, pushing Matt’s feet a little so that he could sit on the couch with him. “Your socks don’t match.”

Matt sighed, wiggling his toes. “Which ones did I grab?”

“One’s your normal boring grey and the other one’s bright yellow with little pink cats.”

Matt frowned. “I have no idea when I got those.”

“I do.” Foggy tucked his feet back under the blanket. “I bought a bunch of fun bright socks for you with the same texture as your grey socks and tossed them in your drawer.”

Matt blinked. “...Please tell me there haven’t been any embarrassing sock occurrences that I didn’t know were happening because I literally can’t see.”

A pause then, “I’m shaking my head. I wasn’t sure if you could tell through your blankets.”

Foggy moved off of the couch and Matt made a little sad noise. “No. Warm. Come back.”

“I’m going to go check out your heater. Just stay there, I’ll fix it.” Foggy started walking around the apartment, making fixing-things-noises.

“Alright.” Something about Foggy taking care of him made him feel soft and sleepy. “I’m gonna take a nap…”

“Okay. Want me to wake you up when I’m done?”   

Matt made an indistinct noise, already mostly gone.

* * *

 

He woke up warm, wrapped in blankets and a nice smell. The blankets made sense, but it took him a second to realize that the aroma was Foggy’s mom’s thirteen level casserole. His mouth was already watering. “Where did you find stuff to make that when there’s no food in here?” he asked, but between the warm fuzzy feeling, his sleepiness and the blankets on his face it came out as, “ _Weeeeedoooooooere??_ ”

Foggy tugged the blankets away from his face. Matt grinned sleepily up at him. “Hey, you okay?” Foggy murmured, pushing Matt’s hair out of his eyes.

Matt hummed, pressing up into Foggy’s hand.

Foggy frowned a little, scratching at Matt’s scalp. “Is this… the way you’re acting, about your ‘list’?”

Matt nodded, turning his head to kiss Foggy’s palm.

Foggy nodded, taking a breath and standing straighter. “Okay. You want to eat?”

Matt curled up further into his blanket lump. “Yes.”

Foggy sighed. “You can’t eat on your couch.”

“I eat on the couch all the time.”

“You don’t eat my mamma’s casserole on the couch, Murdock.”

Matt whined loudly.

“Matthew.”

Matt shivered a little. Foggy had the Voice again.

“I don’ wanna.”

“Matthew.”

He curled in on himself. His skin was starting to feel hot and tight. “No.”

“Matthew.”

Matt tried to stop himself, but slowly he sat up and shuffled from his couch to his table, letting the blanket fall behind him. His apartment was so warm now. Foggy was so great. He sat down at the table, pillowing his head in his arms.  

Foggy ran his hair through Matt’s hair. “...Good boy,” Foggy said, a little bit uncertain.

Matt practically purred, melting back against Foggy.

“Whoa, okay,” Foggy breathed. “Wow. You do like that. Wow. That’s. Really hot. Jesus.”

Matt sighed happily.

“Alright, you want to eat?”

Matt nodded.

“Okay. Sit tight then.” Foggy went to the kitchen and made up a plate of cassarole. He set it in front of Matt, who sighed happily but made no movement to straighten.

“Matthew,” Foggy sighed. “You said you wanted to eat. Sit up.”

“Too much work.” Matt yawned, simply letting the smell wash over him.

Foggy sighed, sitting next to him and forking up a bite. “Eat.” He tried to hand Matt the fork.

Matt opened his mouth and for a second Foggy froze. “Um.”

Matt tried to focus on Foggy’s face, eyes shadowed by his lashes.

“Fuck,” Foggy whispered, something like awe in his voice. “Um. Matt. This is really. Um. Intimate. You sure this is okay? Um. Red, yellow, or green?”

“Green,” Matt hummed, his eyes sliding closed again.

“Okay.” He guided the fork to Matt’s mouth.

He fed Matt in silence and Matt chased each bite, savoring the taste. It reminded him of lying curled up on the the couch in Foggy’s parent’s apartment with a glass of wine after Thanksgiving dinner, talking softly while re-runs of the Brady Bunch played in the background. It reminded him of home. It took him a moment to realize that Foggy was talking. “Hmm?” His eyes blinked open and he tilted his head up.

“I was asking if you wanted to go wash up while I put all of this away.” Foggy’s voice was soft and sweet, but there was an undertone of order that lit a fire in Matt’s belly.

“Will you come with?” He slurred, straightening and rubbing the clinging sleepiness from his eyes.

“No. I have to clean up in here.” Matt frowned at him. “Matty, go take a shower. When you’re done, I’ll be in the bedroom.”

That wiped the frown off Matt’s face.

(Matt’s Sub Brain Math: Foggy plus bedroom is greater than Foggy plus shower.)

He washed quickly and furiously, scrubbing so hard that his skin turned pink. He was out in a few minutes, but he could still hear Foggy cleaning up in the kitchen, so he spent a little while drying off and trying to stop his hands from shaking. He was breaking out of his space now, and he couldn’t help feeling embarrassed. What if this wasn’t what Foggy liked at all? He’d stopped when Matt wanted to be fed, what if he just thought that this was weird or pathetic? He’d had people reject him over this before. He didn’t want Foggy to be another one of those rejections.

Foggy was in his bedroom now, heart beating fast. Matt didn’t want to face him, but he wrapped himself in a thick, fluffy towel anyway and stepped from the bathroom into the room. He stood at the foot of his bed, head down. Foggy had stripped off his button-up, shoes, and socks, leaving him in a soft underskirt and slacks. He sat up when Matt walked in, a smile in his voice. “Hey Matty-”

“We don’t have to do it like this,” Matt stuttered out, cutting him off. “With my. You know. Acting like this. If you want something else I could. Do you want me to top? I could. If you. I want you too-”

Foggy had stood and Matt suddenly found himself wrapped in his arms. “Matthew. Oh, little duck. I like it like this. _I do._ I like it a lot. C’mon, you have my full permission to hyper-sense me.”

Matt closed his eyes, taking deep breaths, focusing all of his attention in on Foggy. His heart was beating hard, but steady. He was loose and relaxed, body temperature warm and happy. He took a deep breath through his nose and was flooded with the deep, musky smell of Foggy’s arousal.

“Okay,” he whispered, shivering. “You like it.”

“Yes, I do.” Foggy pushed his hair back, smiling down at him. “Believe me, this is probably the hottest thing I’ve ever been part of and we haven’t even kissed yet.”

Matt blushed. “Do...  you want to fix that?”

“Hell yes I do.” Foggy cupped that back of his neck, pulling him in for a slow, sweet kiss. Matt sunk himself into it, letting his normal brain switch itself back off. The world was nothing but Foggy, and it was amazing.

His legs were starting to feel wobbly, so it wasn’t much of a surprise when he tripped over his own feet as he was led back towards the bed. Slightly more surprising was the feeling of strong arms simply lifting him bridal style, the kiss never broken. Sometimes Matt forgot that Foggy had spent his whole life working with his hands.

Foggy sat on the bed, Matt folded into his lap and for a moment he pulled away from their kiss. “God, baby. You’re not allowed to be cute and sexy at the same time.” His voice was full of laughter.

Matt felt light and wiggly. Cute. Sexy. Baby. He cloistered the words close to his heart. “I’m sorry…” His voice trailed off. Foggy didn’t feel like the right thing to call him right now. Here, in this room, he felt like something more than just Foggy.

“Sir,” Foggy’s voice seemed to echo in the space. “If you want to call me something.”

Matt bit his lip hard, feeling like his entire body was made of embers. “Sir. I’m sorry, sir.”

Foggy smiled, leaving a brief a kiss on his neck. “No need to be sorry, baby. I love it. I love _you._ ”

Something inside off Matt, something gooey and hot, seemed to be shaped and stretched by Foggy’s words, like blown glass. _Sir loves me._ The words were high and soaring. _Sir loves me._

He pressed his face to the front of Foggy’s shirt, breathing him in. “I love you too, sir.”

“I know, baby.” He kissed Matt’s hair gently. “I’ve always known.”

After a few minutes Foggy carefully lifted Matt off of his lap and laid him out on the bed. Matt grinned up at him. He felt so, so hot. He rubbed his thighs together and trilled softly at the feeling. His towel was riding up, barely keeping him decent, and he wanted Foggy to rip it off of him. He wanted to be touched like he’d never been able to let someone touch him before.

“Mmmm,” Foggy hummed, sitting back like he was content to just watch Matt drive himself crazy. “Getting a little worked up, baby?”

“ _Sir_ ,” Matt gasped, toes curling, fingers skittering over his sheets.

“Yes, Matty?”

“Touch me, please?”

Foggy brushed his finger over the back of Matt’s hand, obviously intending it to be a smart-ass teasing move, but Matt arched, whimpering. Foggy’s hand shoot back, his heart speeding up. Matt whined as the smell of his arousal thickened.

“Wow. You. Okay, starting to really see why having sex was a bad idea for you. Um. Wow.”

He ran a finger from the back of Matt’s hand up his arm to his collarbones and Matt gripped his sheets like a lifeline.

“Red, yellow, green?” Foggy asked, swirling one finger in a circle over the side of his neck.

“Green,” Matt gasped out. “Green with a five hundred mile speed limit.”

Foggy chuckled, shaking his head. “Alright.”

His fingers left Matt’s skin and Matt tried to sit up to chase the feeling, but Foggy pushed him back. “No,” Foggy snapped. “Stay.”

Matt whined, thumping back against the bed and grumbling to himself.

“Matthew,” Foggy sighed. “Stay down, or I’ll tie you up and keep you down.”

Matt froze, eyes wide, then nodded at him, slowly putting his arms over his head, wrists together. Foggy’s heart banged against his ribcage. “Oh. Do you want me to do that?”

“Please,” Matt groaned, pressing his back down to stop himself from bucking into the air.

“Okay. I would but I don’t have anything to-”

“Box. Under the bed.” Matt squeezed his eyes shut, fighting to get his breathing under control.

Foggy hesitated then retrieved the box, gasping softly when he opened it. Matt knew the objects in it better than almost anything else in his apartment. Lube, condoms, a little black vibrator, an adjustable spreader bar, a cock ring, a pair of sound-cancelling headphones, two collars (one delicate, made of ribbon and lace, and the other more heavy duty made of the same deep red material as his suit), some spare rope, and a pair of leather cuffs.

For a moment, Foggy was silent and then, voice calm, “Just cuffs or the spreader bar too?”

Matt’s mouth was dry as he spread his legs. “Both, please.”

Foggy nodded then set to work, cool and efficient. So efficient, in fact, that Matt couldn’t help but question if Foggy was as new to this as he seemed.

Once Matt was bound to the bed, legs spread wide enough that he couldn’t rub his thighs together anymore, Foggy returned his attention to the box.

“ _No_ stop looking at them,” Matt whined, straining towards Foggy and relishing the feeling of not being able to move. “I want you to fuck me. I can have my toys whenever I want but-”

“Oh, don’t worry baby.” Foggy walked his fingers over Matt’s stomach, making him cry out. “I’m going to fuck you. Tonight’s all about making up for what you missed, Matty.”

Matt shuddered, tugging at his bonds. “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”

Foggy leaned in, kissing his forehead. “Good boy.”

Matt moaned, a spark of pleasure running down his spine.

“I think we’re gonna start easy and work our way towards the hard stuff.” Foggy’s hands went to the spreader bar. “It’s a good thing you’re a bendy ninja,” he chuckled to himself, pressing the bar up and spreading Matt’s legs as wide as they could go. He pulled the extra rope out of the box, tying the bar to the headboard. Matt breathed as deeply as he could with his body practically folded in half. He was exposed now, the towel fluttering to the floor when Foggy tossed it aside. He was painfully, achingly hard.

Foggy groaned, sitting back and enjoying the view. “Wow, Matty. You look so pretty like this. Such a pretty boy.”

Pretty. Matt would’ve been wriggling in delight if he could move at all.

“I want to eat you out. Is that okay?”

Matt’s breath caught in his throat. He thought of all of the girls he’d watched get lost in the pleasure when he put his mouth on them. His toes curled and he smiled shyly, trapping his bottom lip behind his teeth. “Yes, sir,” he whispered breathlessly.

“That’s what I thought you’d say.”

The heat of Foggy’s breath against his thighs was scorching. It erased all thought from his mind. Everything was so, so hot and Foggy hadn’t even properly touched him yet.

Foggy’s lips brushed over his hole and his mouth opened in a silent scream. It was like a forest fire, like being in the sun, like being lost for years and years and years in Death Valley. It consumed him, and he let himself burn.

“--Matt. Matty? Baby, talk to me.” Foggy’s voice. Sir’s voice.

His eyes blinked open (he wasn’t sure when he closed them). He tried to place Foggy’s voice. He was still tied up, so he couldn’t’ve been out for long.

“What is it?” he slurred.

“Whelp.” Foggy brushed a hand through Matt’s hair and he whined, hopelessly over-sensitized, not sure if he wanted to push in or shy away. “The good news is, if you were going by having your first orgasm with another person as your measure of losing your virginity, you are no longer a virgin.”     

“Oh. Oops. Sorry.” Matt blushed.

“Nothing to be sorry about, just didn’t expect it that fast.” Foggy’s hands went to untie the spreader bar from the headboard and Matt jerked, shaking his head almost violently. “No! No, don’t stop!”

The was a frown in Foggy’s voice. “You just-”

“Yeah, but I’m not _done_.”

Foggy’s breathing shifted a little, then a sharp, stinging blow landed on Matt’s thigh. He cried out, cock going from maybe-I-can-go-again to two-seconds-from-losing-it in the time it took for the skin that Foggy had hit to get hot and flushed.

“Matthew,” Foggy’s voice was like steel. “What did you do wrong?”

“I… I…” Matt wasn’t sure if he should be turned on or hurt.

“You talked back. I don’t need any of your sass, Matthew. So, let’s try that again.” He rubbed the skin of Matt’s thigh soothingly. “Matthew, you just came. Do you want to be done now?”

“N-no sir,” Matt was dizzy with how hot this was. “I can come lots of times in a row, sir.”

Foggy hummed in satisfaction. “Mmmm. Well aren’t you just my little wonder of nature? Would you like me to keep eating you out?”

“Yes, sir.”  

Foggy kissed Matt once then crawled down, leaving brilliant little pecks over Matt’s skin as he went. He licked over Matt’s hole, a slick drag over too-hot skin, and Matt clenched his fists so hard he could hear his own bones creaking.

Foggy took his time with him, working his tongue into him impossibly slowly. Matt had stopped making noises at least thirty minutes ago, his mouth slack and panting. He’d come again when Foggy first pushed into him, and again when Foggy had bit down on his thigh for fighting too hard against his bonds. Everything was fuzzy and over-hot and a few seconds slower than normal time.

Matt nearly cried when Foggy  took his mouth away.

“Sir,” he breathed. “Please, don’t stop. Not yet. Feels so, so, so good.”

Foggy didn’t answer, but the sound of the cap being popped on the bottle of lube was enough for him to stop complaining. He tried to open his legs wider, wanted to beg like something cheap and desperate. “Sir. Sir sir sir. I’m ready now.”

There was another quick smack against his thigh. “I’ll decide when you’re ready, Matty.” Foggy sighed. “I’m going to take your legs down now.”  He untied the bar from the headboard first and Matt winced when he let his leg’s fall to the mattress with a thump. Foggy sighed, kissing a trembling knee before removing the bar and tossing it aside. For a moment Matt tried to ignore the pins and needles and Foggy rubbed the soreness out of his legs.

“You ready to keep going?” Foggy murmured after a while, and Matt nodded. “Do you want me to take off the cuffs as well?” Matt shook his head. “Alright. Spread your legs for me, okay baby?”

Matt shivered then spread his legs wide. “Please.”

Foggy laughed softly, leaning in and kissing his cheek. “Patience, baby.”

Matt moaned at the smell of lube as Foggy poured out fair amount. He cried out when Foggy pushed two fingers into him, scissoring him open fast and sloppy. He tried to buck up into the pleasure, but Foggy pushed his hips down.

“Patience.”

_“Please.”_

A smack, low and burning, to his inner thigh, close to his cock, and he moaned.

It seemed to take Foggy hours to prep him. He went from two to three fingers, and when he pressed in a fourth Matt came again with a desperate, high sound.

“Sir,” he begged when he came to, Foggy’s fingers still buried in him. “Sir, please. I want you.”

Foggy pulled his fingers out of Matt and there was the sound of a foil wrapper being torn, the sharp smell of lube, and then Matt couldn’t think, because Foggy was inside him. Pushing in slow and careful and sweet, not wanting to hurt him. Whispering sweet nothings in his ear. He’d never imagined being filled by another person to feel like this, like being welded to another person’s soul. Or maybe it was only like that with Foggy.

He lost track of time again. There was nothing but the slick in and out slide, the heat of skin, sweat rolling down his chest, a voice murmuring _good boy, good boy, good boy_. Lying discarded in the kitchen was Foggy’s watch. _Tick tock. Tick tock. Tick tock._ On and on, time passing. Nothing mattered.

He came. He wasn’t sure how many times, but he knew with each mind numbing moment of pleasure Foggy was holding him tight, encouraging him. _Good boy. Good boy._

He was so sensitive it hurt, but it was the most delicious kind of hurt. Sometimes he cried, sometimes he laughed, sometimes he prayed, sometimes he started to scream before Foggy bottled in the sound with kisses.

_Red, yellow, green?_

_Green._

_Green._

_Green._

He might’ve been begging Foggy to speed up, but the movements stayed slow and tender. Foggy’s fingers were writing benedictions on too hot skin.

Matt was nameless now. Caught in something like the dark space between stars. He asked Foggy to stop for a moment. He wanted to be collared. He expected leather or lace, but instead Foggy sucked a ring of bruises onto his neck. Oxygen had to pass by them first to get to his lungs.

By the time Foggy came, Matt was barely holding on to conscientiousness. He couldn’t come anymore (he couldn’t remember that ever happening to him before).

Movement was hard, so he just let Foggy pull out. Uncuff him, rub feeling back into his fingers. Move him, soft and malleable, to the bathroom. Sit him down on the floor and clean him with a wet cloth.

_Good boy. Lift your arm for me? Good boy._

Once he was clean and dry there was a rustling as Foggy changed the sheets, and then he was wrapped Foggy’s arms, the fire on his skin finally soothed with cool sheets.

***

In the morning, he expected to feel different. But he didn’t. He expected to see Foggy in some new light, but he didn’t. He woke up next to his best friend, sore in the best possible way, and ran his fingers over his face. Foggy smiled, sleepy and happy, and under Matt’s hands it felt like coming home.

“Hey Matty,” Foggy whispered into the early morning stillness. “Truth or dare?”

Matt’s voice shook with confused laughter. Trust this to be Foggy’s morning-after pillow talk. “Truth.”  

“Do you love me?”

Matt stopped laughing. Something tender slipped over his features. “Yes, Foggy. I love you.”

Foggy’s smile seemed to envelope his whole face. “I love you too.”

For a moment, there was quiet, then. “Hey Foggy. Truth or dare?”

“Dare.”

“Kiss me.”

They kissed.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Matt Murdock, Foggy Nelson, or my own soul. All of those things belong to Marvel. O Gods of Marvel, forgive me.  
> Happy birthday if it's your birthday!


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